Love Unbreakable by Bank Brook
Chapter 588

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With Roscoe's back to her, Nicole got to work. He meticulously cleaned the lacerations with iodine, applied coagulants, and began wrapping gauze around his torso.

Nicole's delicate touch seemed to make Roscoe stiffen, a sign that such care was foreign to him.

When Nicole finished with the bandage, Roscoe hurriedly put on a white T-shirt.

Nicole, in a moment of audacity, took his hand and her question pierced the silence. Roscoe, is it me you want?

The play of light and shadow in the room highlighted the clean lines of Roscoe's face, in stark contrast to the charged atmosphere that reigned between them.

Nicole's voice, barely above a whisper, had an undeniable charm as she leaned toward him. «I'm here, ready to be yours. Is that what you want?

Nicole didn't dare accept his sacrifice and selflessness. The idea of ​​calming his conscience with such an exchange crossed his mind, acknowledging his own fears regarding his genuine and unprotected feelings.

She knew it was folly to try to rouse him from what she considered a futile search with the bait of her own charm.

With a natural magnetism that didn't need to be enhanced by cosmetics, Nicole's eyes had a power of their own. His appeal was undeniable, even powerful, and for someone like Roscoe, who seemed so unversed in matters of the heart, it could be overwhelming.

Pressing for an answer, Nicole challenged the very basis of Roscoe's actions. Is this what you've been striving for?

Roscoe's expression changed to one of icy detachment, his demeanor chilling as expected.

Nicole, trying to ignore the pain spreading through her chest, continued. «Roscoe, I can be yours tonight, but on one condition. We'll finish this later."

The naivety of youth had disappeared from Roscoe's features. He looked at her with insight honed by experience.

When he looked into her eyes, he let out an unexpected laugh.

"Okay, let's do it," he agreed, surprising her.

A wave of panic washed over Nicole. The man before him was an enigma, different from the Roscoe he had known.

Despite the change, Nicole maintained her poise, her hand curled around the back of his neck, her façade unwavering.

They found themselves locked in an unspoken tie, each waiting for the other to give up first.

Roscoe's stubbornness was equal to hers. His frustration was palpable.

He grabbed her hand firmly, pinning her against the wall, moving closer, his tone harsh. “Nicole…”

The way he said her name was undeniably charged, a bold move in their tense exchange.

Nicole controlled her nerves, seeking inner tranquility. He clung to a shred of certainty in the midst of the tension.

Roscoe, despite his anger, would not harm him. However, he did not dare to reveal his apprehension.

Roscoe's eyes, a gravity in themselves, held his gaze, his breath mixing with the air between them.

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